VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
ÁJI, VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
PÁTÁ JHARIBÁR VEDANÁTE HÁY
MÚK MUKHE SE JE CÁHIÁ RAY
VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
ÁJI, VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
HÁRAYECHE SE JE SAB SHYAMALIMÁ
DHÚLI JHAINJHÁY SAKAL SUŚAMÁ
BETAS KUNJE NIIP NIKUNJE
MADHU VÁYU ÁR NAHI BAY
RUDRA DEVATÁ E KII TAVA KHELÁ
ANAL DÁHANE AKARUŃ LIILÁ
VARŚÁR SUR ÁRO KATA DÚR
CÁTAK JÁCICHE MARU TRIŚÁY
VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
ÁJI, VEŃUKÁR VAN KII KATHÁ KAY
Today, what does the bamboo grove say,
in the agony of its loss of leaves?
In speechless silence it gazes on.
Today, what does the bamboo grove say?
In the storms of dust it lost its green beauty.
In the cane and kadamba groves,
the sweet spring breeze no longer blows.
O awesome Lord, what is this play of Yours?
This scorching fire? This heartless sport?
The skylark sings in this desert thirst:
"How far off is the sweet melody of rain?"